**This is a list of slogans that have been shared around the rooms for many years. All credit for these slogans goes to the members of 12 Step Programs. We are grateful to be able to share this list with you. If we have missed any slogans that you know of, please comment on this blog.

One Day at a Time
First Things First
Don’t Give up Before the Miracle Happens
Attitude of Gratitude
Think, Think, Think
Keep it Simple Stupid
The Elevator is Broken, Take the Steps
Stay Sober and Carry the Message
Think the First Drink Through
Trust God and Clean House
Easy Does It But do It
Do the Next Right Thing
First Thought Wrong
Just For Today
Clean and Serene
You’re Time to Shine
Turn It Over
Let Go and Let God
Higher Powered
This Too Shall Pass
Live and Let Live
Time Takes Time
Humility is Not Thinking Less of Yourself, But Thinking of Yourself Less
It Works if you Work It
TIME: Things I must Earn
Keep Coming Back
Learn to Listen and Listen to Learn
Principles Before Personalities
Misery is Optional
Nothing Changes if Nothing Changes
If your ass falls off, put in a bag and bring it to a Meeting
Meeting Makers Make It Don’t Drink and Go to Meetings
Experience Strength and Hope not Opinions, Bullshit and Dope
Feelings are not Facts
You Cannot Graft a New Idea on a Closed Mind
Take What you Like and Leave the Rest
Surrender to Win
More will be Revealed
You are Not Alone
Good Orderly Direction
Wherever You go You Take Yourself
Fake it Till you Make it FEAR: False Expectations Appearing Real
When the pain gets great enough
Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today
We Have a Daily Reprieve
Denial is not a river in Egypt
We are not a Glum Lot
I am right where I am supposed to be
To thy own self be True
90 Meetings in 90 days
Pain Shared is Pain Lessened
Self Will Run Riot
Take the cotton out of your ears and put it in your mouth
Two Sickies don’t make a Welly
Think the Drink Through
But for the Grace of God There go I
I can’t, He can, I think I’ll let Him
Stick with the Winners
We are All Here Because We aren’t All There
Remember Your Last Drunk
Keep it Green
Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired
We Keep What We Have By Giving it Away
Half Measures Availed us Nothing
Bring the body and the mind will follow
Trust God and Clean House
Move a muscle change a thought
From Park Avenue to the Park Bench
We are Only as Sick as Our Secrets
One is too Many a Thousand is Never Enough
When the student is ready the teacher will appear
Happy, Joyous and Free
HOW: Honesty, Open Mindedness and Willingness!

In the years since my first NA meeting, I have seen and heard and been a part of many things that resonate with me today.

I have been to countless recovery anniversary celebrations, conventions, workshops and meetings. I have heard my predecessors share their experience, strength and hope in a meeting, outside in the meeting-after-the-meeting and over the phone. I have been to college graduations, weddings and baby showers. I have jumped out of a plane, traveled outside of the US and gotten married. I have dug myself out of debt, bought a car and bought a house. All of these situations and life events have led me to a place of gratitude. I am reminded of a predecessor who used to always share in meetings, “I have a life beyond my wildest dreams.”

However, I have had days where I felt like throwing in the towel on this way of life, because the pain feels so great that my heart may break. I have talked to newcomers who were struggling to stay clean, been to several funerals and shed many tears. I have experienced adultery, the murder of a friend and the end of friendships, relationships and jobs. I have watched parents mourn their children, husbands and wives beg their spouse to get clean, and children feel neglected. All of these things, however, have led me again to gratitude. I am again reminded of a predecessor saying, “An addict, any addict, can stop using drugs, lose the desire to use, and find a new way to live. Our message is hope and the promise of freedom.”

All of these things have given me a ton of experience, strength and hope to share with the next person who attends their first NA meeting. Looking back, many of these things seemed impossible almost 10 years ago. Honestly, some of these things seemed impossible just last week!

I am grateful for all of my experiences, my strength and the hope that I have seen in my life and the lives of others who are leading a different life now that we are clean.

“He’s not going to stop unless he really wants to.” I’ve heard that statement far too many times to count. Lately, I have been seeing it on online message boards. The spouse or sibling of a suffering alcoholic or addict seeks direction from a Facebook group that was created to help families in their community. The person posts details about their loved one’s behavior and asks for suggestions. Inevitably, someone responds with something like this: “Unfortunately, until your husband wants to stop drinking, there is little hope for recovery.” Every time I hear someone express this belief, I cringe. It is a myth.

Of course, in order to maintain abstinence over time, a recovering person must, at some point, be internally motivated to do so. But I challenge you to ask yourself: When you stopped, did you really want to stop? I know I didn’t.

At the end of my drinking, I was in a tremendous amount of emotional pain. My family was pressuring me to get help. My alcoholism was creating problems on the job. What I wanted was for all these things to go away. I still wanted to drink. It was the results that I didn’t want.

I was 23 years old and still living with my parents. The last day I drank, September 6, 1996, was the day they drew the line with me. If I didn’t get help, if I wasn’t willing to go to treatment, I would have no place to live. My family had leverage and, thank God, they were willing to use it. That’s my story. I didn’t get sober because I saw the light. I got sober because I felt the heat. And, as time went on, I became more and more attracted to this way of life. That is how I got better and that is often how it works for others.

Treatment industry research clearly indicates that a certain segment of the population shows far better outcomes than any other. If you are a licensed professional, such as a nurse, a doctor, an attorney, or a pilot, and your job is on the line, you tend to stay sober. When these people seek help for their addiction, they often risk losing their license unless they complete treatment successfully and adhere to an aftercare plan that can include support groups and drug testing for up to five years. They follow through because they don’t want to lose their jobs. They feel the heat, and eventually they come around.

Another saying comes to mind. “It’s not for the people who need it. It’s not for the people who want it. It’s for the people who do it.” So, remember this when someone reaches out to you for help. In the beginning, it doesn’t necessarily matter whether or not a person wants to be clean and sober. Are they willing to get help? Are they willing to attend meetings? Are they willing to work the Steps? Are they willing?

It doesn’t even matter why they are willing. It’s not for people who want it. It’s for people who do it.

I was a drinker for over 30 years. I could quit anytime. For real, I could. And I did. Lots of times. I would give it a break, a rest. I would quit for a month. I would quit for the length of an entire pregnancy. I did that twice. I would quit to drop a few pounds. Sometimes I would quit until Friday. In the end, of course, even that was tough.

If I’m honest, and I’m trying to be, those quits were not easy. I hung on, though. I hung on despite the cravings, the temptations and the boredom. Good lord, the boredom was excruciating. That was always the worst part. I did it, though. I quit.

Staying quit was the problem. I would feel so good after my hiatus. I would think, wow, look at me. I quit. I’m good. I did it. So I guess there’s no problem after all. I would celebrate my success —with a nice meal and fine wine. Something expensive. A real civilized celebration. Nothing crazy. I was, after all, celebrating the realization that I have no drinking problem. And then, for some time thereafter, I would keep a watchful eye and control my consumption. And then… well, you know the drill.

One Last Quit.

This last time, in 2007, I knew I had to do things differently. I knew I didn’t have a lot of quits left in me. I was afraid there might be just one left. I knew I had to make this a good one. I knew I had to make this quit last. And I knew I couldn’t do it alone. I can’t explain it; I just knew.

So I sought help. This was before smartphones. We had the Internet, but it was dial-up, slow and frustrating. So I opened up the phone book. Old-school. I sought the help of people who had already done what I was trying to do. People who had quit. I knew that I needed help, and to be honest, I wasn’t thrilled about becoming sober. I didn’t dive in with joy and enthusiasm. I crawled in, sort of. Full of sadness and fear.

I was sad because I thought the good times were over. No more girls’ night out. No more tailgate parties. I was sad because I thought the rest of my life would play out like a crummy black-and-white movie. I pictured Styrofoam cups filled with bad coffee and powdered creamer. I pictured hanging around a bunch of self-loathing old guys in cheap suits. This was to be my new life and it made me sad.

I was afraid because I thought it would be excruciating. I thought I would hang on, one day at a time, for the rest of my life, wanting to drink but willing myself not to. I thought it would suck. Mostly, I was afraid I might not be able to do it.

People Just Like Me.

Despite all this, I was committed. I knew it was time. The truth is, in the beginning, it was excruciating. I did hang on, one day at a time, willing myself not to drink. It did suck. Thankfully, though, I had people to lean on. Old guys, yeah, but they were cool. Young people, too. And plenty of women. All kinds. All ages. They were just regular people. People who had enjoyed drinking until there was no enjoyment left. People just like me.

They told me the beginning wouldn’t last forever. They told me it would get easier. They told me it would be okay. More than okay, they told me that life would be better than I could ever imagine. “Beyond your wildest dreams,” they said. They told me it would not be boring!

So I hung on past the beginning, until I wasn’t even hanging on anymore. I was just living. Just living and enjoying life without the booze. They were right: It’s a life better than I ever could have imagined. And yet it’s just life. Life without the booze.

I used to pride myself on sharing at meetings. As soon as a topic was decided, my hand would go up as I thought of ways to share and make people laugh, be informative, and show how much I knew about the Big Book, Steps, and recovery. My sharing was sometimes long, and I thought it was okay because everyone seemed to enjoy the share, laugh out loud, and nod their head at my wit and my charisma.

Then I did an inventory on my sharing. Was I sharing to help others or impress others? I remember being in a meeting once and a female was sharing about the difficulty she was having concentrating on Steps and sobriety while going through menopause and hot flashes. The next three people who shared were men, and I thought, what did they know about what she was feeling? Then I thought of times I shared, not from my heart but from my head, a clever joke or a play-on-words to show my wit.

Then I remembered when I was a newcomer. I did not care how much you know until I knew how much you cared. I could tell when someone was sharing from their heart or from their head. Don’t get me wrong, knowledge is power, but caring, respect and love appeals to the heart, and that is where true compassion and the ability to embrace the 12 Steps of recovery lies.

So I don’t share as much today in open meetings. Recalling my own sobriety, some of the most meaningful messages to me came in a whisper, after a meeting or before a meeting, during a phone conversation, or just listening to a person one-on-one.

When my sister passed away, I was so afraid to have to go home and make funeral arrangements; I had never done this before. I shared this in the meeting, and after the meeting a friend came to me and whispered, “Don’t worry, the funeral director will take care of everything.” I never knew, and he did.

I had once moved to a location I quickly became disgruntled with, and was worried about relocating and hurting the person’s feelings, and someone whispered after the meeting, “Be honest, say what you mean, but don’t say it mean.”

I still enjoy those who can share and make others laugh, are knowledgeable about the Steps, recovery and the Big Book. Today when I share, I try to share a message that says “I care.” I try to share in a whisper so I can reach the heart. Because I believe, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”

When I started working the program, I was told that there are no rules or directions, only suggestions. Cool, I thought, that gives me a lot of leeway! I’m a gal who loves leeway. But my sponsor reminded me that leeway is what got me into these rooms. I can’t handle leeway because I’m an addict. I love pushing boundaries. I love getting away with fill-in-the-blank. “More” is my middle name.

Leeway means making a judgment about how far to go. I’m an addict. I did not come into these rooms with healthy judgment. I have always gone too far.

So my wise sponsor, recognizing the gleam in my eye upon hearing the word “suggestions,” quickly nipped that in the bud. She informed me that I would be taking directions, not suggestions. She said other newcomers may be able to successfully work the program with suggestions, but she did not see that as working for me.

Today I have been in recovery for 28 years because of directions, from the Steps, from my sponsor, from old-timers, and especially from my Higher Power. When I am unsure which way to go in a situation and I pray for direction, I always get an answer, and the answer is never leeway.

After 28 years of running everything by my sponsor and my Higher Power, I now have healthier judgment, but I’m still an addict and I still need direction. It keeps me safe. By the grace of God, I have been directed into a life of happiness, joy and freedom.

I had two major resentments when I joined AA. I swore I would never forgive these two men for the pain they inflicted on me. I carried it around with me like a cross to bear. Through the years I have read about acceptance, forgiveness, and how others are as sick as we are and we should treat them as such. I started healing relationships in my life but still never imagined that I could forgive my stepfather or my first boyfriend for the mental, physical, and sexual abuse that I endured at their hands.

For years in AA, I heard people talk about how some of the amends we need to make will take time and that when the time is right, a person or situation will present itself for me to do a Step Nine with. The more I thought about my first boyfriend, the more I could see my part in the relationship. Taking an honest look at myself back then, I could see how my disease affected our relationship and how unstable I was. I looked for him online for a few years but never found him. Then one day I received a message from him on Facebook. The communication was very casual at first; he was not sure if he should even contact me. Then I started with the amends that I needed to make, not concerning myself with his side of the street. I explained that I was in AA now and that I had him on my Ninth Step for years. We both made our apologies to each other. I found out that he had a life-threatening accident after we broke up and that he had decided, at that point, to stop using drugs. It was a powerful and healing experience for both of us, to be able to wish each other well.

So that left one person on my list, my stepfather. I was only nine years old when he came into my life and started abusing me and my younger sister. He was a big, angry alcoholic and everyone in the family was afraid of him. I had talked about his abuse for years with my younger sister, counselors, and my sponsor. I started following the suggestion from my sponsor to pray for him. One day, while looking through photos with my mother, we ran across pictures of him. Mom asked if she should throw them away. Realizing that her relationship with him was very different than mine, I said that they were her pictures and she could keep them if she wanted to. I really can’t explain it, but somehow my resentment was gone. For the first time in my life, I was able to talk about him without feeling upset, angry or resentful. I believe that my higher power took this burden from me. I feel so much lighter and happier these days. Nowadays my experience benefits others when I am sharing at meetings or working with a sponsee. What a freedom to have released all that negative baggage! I will forever be grateful to AA and my sponsor for helping me work through this.

My life depends on not taking that first bite. Why? Because I am a food addict. I lost my job, my husband, my friends, my self-worth, and my sanity to this disease. I almost lost my life to it. Today, everything in my life depends on not taking that first bite.

I also have other addictions (hey, I’m an addict; I can addict to anything that makes me feel good or takes away the not-feeling-good), but food has always been my drug of choice. At first I hated being an addict, but now I am very grateful for my disease. Why? Because what my disease did give me was the opportunity to work a 12-Step program, and I have found that by following the 12-Steps of AA, not only do they help me avoid that first bite, but they also give me guidance and sanity in every other aspect of my life. I found my Higher Power through working the Steps. I found the self I want to be through working the Steps. I have peace and joy today through working the Steps. My life is a miracle today because of two men.

When I first got clean, the consequences of my using forced me to move back in with my parents. Being that I was 43years old, and me and my father did not get along, this was something I did not want to do. Every time I tried to talk about it to other recovering addicts, I was pretty much told the same thing every time. Just trust the process, God has a plan. So I moved in and started working with my sponsor and working the Steps. Life started to get better. My relationship with my father even started to improve.

After a couple of years, things were starting to get so good that I felt ready to move out and be on my own again. Well, everyone in my sponsorship tree kept telling me I should stay put. They told me I didn’t realize how good I had it, living with my parents, and I was only paying half the rent that I would pay if I were on my own. I was, WHY WHY WHY? They were saying again, trust the process, God has a plan. I didn’t know what that plan was, but I stayed.

A few more years went by and things with my father kept getting better, not great, but better. Well, my mom ended up in the hospital and got very sick after having a gallbladder operation. She ended up getting an infection and passed away in the hospital. I realized what God’s plan was when me and Dad cut Mom’s life support. It was for me to have done enough work on me so I could be there to support my father when he needed me the most. I still live with him and our relationship just keeps getting better and better. He’s 80 now and it’s my turn to take care of him.